


Honey

by Teaotter



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: AU, Multi, Plot What Plot, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-01
Updated: 2005-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's trying to find her place in the world. For the moment, that place is between two very attractive men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey

It's not as if she's never had sex before.

There'd only been two men in college, the nature of her mutation making casual affairs almost impossible. David had been two years her junior, his awkward fumbling made up for by the sweetness of his mind. Julian was her own age, and more comfortable in his own body - and a minor telepath himself. Sex with him had been hard and hot, both of them desperate for contact in a sea of ordinary minds.

She's even kissed Charles twice since they started dating this summer, although both times he told her they should wait, that they had plenty of time. And if she's been a little frustrated by his decision, the smooth honey of his desire has been reassuring. Still, she knows he and Erik have been lovers for many years, and when the other man appeared at dinner, she was expecting that their date would be put off until whenever Erik's wanderlust drove him from the mansion again. Even if things were - settled - between her and Charles, she'd have given him what privacy she could.

She certainly didn't expect to be invited to his suite after dinner. She isn't prepared for the soft hunger that crackles like green logs in a fire. She's fairly sure that none of that hunger is for *her.*

So when, in a pause in the conversation, Erik touches her cheek briefly and whispers, "You're a very attractive woman," she's shocked to feel his mouth press against hers.

The kiss is slow, and wet, and thorough, his tongue teasing hers to follow into the heat of his mouth. Even in her adolescent crush on Erik, she could never imagine the soft slide of his lips against hers. She realizes that she's been helplessly holding her wineglass in one hand and clutching at Charles with the other just as he pulls away.

"Has Charles been making you wait?" He strokes back her hair and turns her face toward him. "If he had his way, you'd be my age before he let you touch him."

"Hardly that," Charles breaks in, laughing. "I only want her to be - "

Sure, Jean hears in her mind, along with the faint sting of his exasperation. And hunger.

"- So crazy with desire that she fails to notice your flaws?"

She has to look at Charles, reach out with her mind to be sure. And yes, the slow burn of his desire flares when she reaches out to stroke his face. Erik might be the catalyst, but she isn't just a toy here.

"He does have them, you know."

She blinks back at Erik as he takes the wineglass from her hand and places it on the end table. There is a flash of playfulness in his mind, a sense that this is a game he loves to play. To tease, and distract.

She lets her own amusement dance around the edges of his mind, knowing Charles would also feel the exchange, and her growing confidence.

"Flaws?" she drawls. "I hadn't noticed." She pushes, just a bit, with the heat of her own desire, and watches the flush spread across his skin.

"That gift of yours... is quite remarkable." The little shuddery breath is almost imperceptible, but she can almost smell the heat coming off of him. He lets Charles tug him forward, and she bites her lip at the feel of his breath against her cheek.

Behind her, there is a sensory flash from Charles, the press of Erik's fingers against his lips.

Erik grins into her hair. "He can be too reserved."

A small mischievous smile from Charles as he sucks Erik's fingers into his mouth. *I believe the term you're looking for is 'proper.'*

The sudden heat coming from both of them makes her moan.

"Yes. Propriety has its place, even in the bedroom." Erik nuzzles the back of her neck, one hand working its way under her shirt. She helps him take off her shirt as he begins to fuck his fingers blatantly in and out of Charles's mouth.

The message is obvious, and makes her squirm in its absolute openness - yes, we fuck, and yes, it feels just as good as it looks - and it makes her want, fiercely, to feel that stretch with her own lips. To slide her tongue across the pads of thick fingers, choke her way down to his fist and muffle her own helpless noises with his hand.

"But it's hardly the first thing one looks for in a lover."

The words don't matter. She's not even sure Erik knows what he's saying. She's fumbling with Charles's clothes, smoothing her hands up and down the pressed white shirt and plucking at the buttons. She's grateful he discarded the jacket he wore to dinner, so she can slide her fingers under the fabric even when her hands are shaking so bad.

Erik's fingers play with her nipple, and a flare of almost pain shoots down to her pussy. There's a hand pushing her bra aside, and one unzipping her skirt, and still Charles is sucking on Erik's fingers like he could come just like this.

She almost thinks she could, there's so much heat and hunger and wet-hard-good crashing over her in waves. She catches a brief thought from Charles - he can hold her up, keep her from being swept away.

"Don't." She doesn't want him to play the mentor here, to anchor her in her own skin. There's something overwhelming just outside her mind, and she *wants* it. "Don't you fucking *dare.*"

She's never said the word before during sex, but she likes the feel of it, and the faint shock it sends through the men. Improper. Crude. And she wants to be dirty, she wants every little nasty thought they've ever had, and she wants to *feel* them.

She crawls into Charles's lap and kisses him, messy and awkward against the corner of the couch. She presses against his skin and his mind, shoving her own desire and lust insistently into the rapidly dissolving pool of his control.

She can feel his shudders through her mind as well as through her skin.

"This may not be a good idea." But there's temptation curled up thick inside his words, melting like caramel on her tongue. It makes her laugh and rub herself against him like a cat.

His control falls like a breaker wave, dragging her under her own skin. Somewhere, she can hear Erik's gasping breaths, and she can feel them pounding through her lungs. Somewhere, she's moving to catch those breaths, and the lack of air makes the shadows pull in.

She's not sure she could stop now if he asked her to. But his moan is all about yes, and more, and *now*.

She's slick, and wet, and the fingers sliding into her pussy just make it better. Fucking her slow and hard, the way Erik had fucked Charles's mouth. The hand doesn't stop, just keeps thrusting in and out, and it feels too good to push him away even long enough to push down her underwear.

She knows she's making little mewling noises, or maybe that's Charles. She's too busy bucking up against that hand to see, but she can feel him kissing away the moans that fall out of Erik as he strokes the bulge in the front of his pants.

"Fffffuck." And the pressure-pain-pleasure from the fingers shoving deep into her throws her abruptly over the edge, her body clenching and unclenching as she comes.

The world fades back in slowly. Charles is a warm weight across her lap, Erik's pants pushed down just far enough for him to lap at the other man's cock. Wave of body-shock, hot and wet amplified from Erik to Charles and back again. She feels so empty, and so full, that tongue working as if at her own clit, sending little shocks through her over and over.

She met Erik's eyes, knowing that Charles's mind was washing over both of them. She could feel the press of his fingers into his palms as he fought to make the pleasure last, to hold out against that wave pressing closer and closer with the heat.

And she takes everything -- the way she sees them, the stretch of Charles's mouth around his cock, the slick longing in her pussy -- and thrusts it into his mind like a knife.

He comes with a sharp yell, matched a moment later with the shining body-slam of pleasure from Charles. Like being filled too far, the kind of pressure-pain that feels too good not to scream into. She screams with them into another orgasm.

The first thing she feels again is the intense discomfort of the arm of the couch digging into the small of her back. Then the wetness between her legs, and the twist of her underwear shoved aside. Her mind feels faint and oddly vulnerable, as if it'll hurt if she moves wrong, or tries to -

Ow. Trying to read either of the men hurt, like stretching too far. She shifts a bit, trying to dislodge one of them enough to be able to move further onto the couch, or

Off of it. She catches herself on her hands and knees beside the couch. That works, too.

"Ah."

She starts to giggle at the satisfied sound from above her. She finishes collapsing on the carpet, still half-dressed, and lets the laughter come. Whatever Charles might think about it, it had been a damn good idea.


End file.
